


Dubious Distinction

by mmmdraco



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 15:52:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/663785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mmmdraco/pseuds/mmmdraco
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has the dubious distinction of being confusing without being a moron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dubious Distinction

**Author's Note:**

  * For [professormystery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/professormystery/gifts).



She has the dubious distinction of being confusing without being a moron. He understands her more now than he did when he first made her acquaintance, but she is still an enigma. Why she would have greeted him that time wearing nothing more than perfume and a smile but she is corseted and gartered and stockinged now... It is impossible, now, for him to have her as quickly as he'd like because of all of the black and red frippery, but he figures she knows it. Irene Adler knows men. People. She has them figured out and she knows how to get what she wants. And what she wants right now must be for him to wait. She won't whisper a single gentle "Sherlock," in his ear or lay back and let herself be ravaged. Whatever game she is dressed to play, he, too, is but a pawn.

He doesn't mind. 

It is only once she has stripped him of all of his clothes, discarding them to all corners of the room as though the debauchery need be evident everywhere, that he is let in on the secret: she means to keep most of her clothing on. It is only her panties that she allows him to slide down her legs. He is surprised to find that the scrape of the stockings against his fingertips is pleasant in a way he can't define beyond the stirrings it gives his cock. 

Desire grips him even more strongly as she slips her panties from his grasp and uses them to bind his hands together, the lace digging into his wrists and a tinge of moisture present that he can only take as a sign of how aroused her plan is making her. He is content, for once, to take orders and to allow himself to have his hands pulled above his head and pushed backward so that he can slide down one of the bedposts and she can straddle his lap, effectively pinning him there.

The apex of her heat is a hair's breadth from his cock, already hard and leaking precome, and she does nothing for several long moments but look at him, her facade impenetrable and her sex equally so as she counters each of his movements with one of her own that leaves him nearly gasping for air as he surrenders to his baser instincts and seeks out that part of her that is making promises with no guarantees.

She takes pity on him finally, the tops of her breasts heaving in the corset under his gaze, and finally presses herself upon him so that the heels of her stilettos dig into his knees and her stockings rub against his thighs and he is surrounded in her heat. She clenches around him and her fingernails dig into his shoulders in a pattern he can't quite place but it sure to recognize in the mirror later on. He is still pinned here, beneath her, even as her hips begin a rhythm that taunts him. She is inviting him to, what? To break free? He looks to her face again and though her visage is one of passion, he can't quite glean any more of it. And still she clenches around him and rides him toward her own pleasure as though he is a thing rather than a person.

The panties rip far better than he'd thought they might and then his hands are on her, teasing along the edges of the corset and sliding beneath the straps of the garters, and his fingernails dragging up the backs of her thighs rend holes in her stockings. She is still on top, but he is able to shift his position enough that he can add something to the equation. There are only a few short moments where he feels as though he has managed to wrest any control at all from her, and a single rotation of her hips is enough to shut him down again. He comes within her, the heat of it masked by her own, and she shudders atop him and lets her nails scrape along his flesh.

She is careful to stand, her heels loud upon the floor, but she leans down with ease to pick up the lacy scrap of black fabric. "A rather inspired plan to phase out some of the old wardrobe, don't you think?"

He growls and hoists himself up with help from the bedpost. "Then you should have encouraged me to rip it all off of you."

With a shake of her head, she smiles. "Learn some patience, Sherlock, dear. One at a time."

He likes this game, he decides. It's new and interesting and he hopes that the corset is next on the list.


End file.
